What Happens When Two Valley Girls Meet
by The-Lime-Raven
Summary: Hong Kong is telling Poland what happened at the Xmas Bloodbath 2010. CRACK. HK/Poland/HK. PoLiet is awesome, but this is my new CRACK!OTP. And now it is yours as well. Random title is random. Romance, friendship, humour, general, ect...


Hong Kong is telling Poland what happened at the Xmas Bloodbath 2010.

PoLiet is AWESOME, but ever since the recent bloodbath '10 this pairing has been gnawing at my brain.

Arigato for having Hong Kong be an Asian Poland, Himaruya-sama.

This is my new CRACK!OTP. They have similar accents, like fashion, and have worn a dress before. THAT'S MORE THAN ENOUGH REASONS TO SHIP THEM.

Contains: One shot, fluff, shounen-ai, CRACK, Cross-dressing, cultural confusion on my part, valley girl accents, PWP, TWT, and Poland/Hong Kong/Poland. Grudgingly rated K+…

Oh GOD. I read it just now and realized that it's more of a friendship. You'll enjoy this even if you don't like yaoi.

ENJOY YOUR DAILY DOSE OF CRACK COURTESY OF THE LIME RAVEN.

* * *

Poland walked over to the couch, handing the Asian a mug of hot chocolate. Hong Kong grasped the drink, savouring the warmth. The blonde sat down next to him, draping a blanket around the other's shoulders.

'You should totally get warm right now. You're like, an icicle or something…' He crossed his legs, leaning on one arm. 'So, tell me what happened. Where'd you get this dress?' He tugged on Asian's dress for emphasis.

Hong Kong took a sip of his drink and rested it on the coffee table with a soft _clink_. He spoke while adjusting the blanket. 'Okay, so like, me and China, right, were like, in a room, right, and then guess what.' He turned to stare at the European's face. Those gorgeous eyes looked like the Gods had hand-carved them from jade…

Poland stared back into coffee pools. 'You guys were naked, right?' He raised an eyebrow in companion to his statement. When he received a strange look he explained his guess. 'I mean, that's what happened to everyone else. Even me!' He laughed at the last sentence to loosen the atmosphere.

'Um, like, no. But, we were totally wearing these awesome dresses.' He grabbed his drink and took a long, loud slurp from it before setting it down again, leaving a mustache on his lip from the chocolate. 'Mine was girly maid outfit with an apron and everything,' His clothing's sleeves flapped in description. 'China's was a _qipao_. His hair was in these cute pigtails.' Sleeves flapped again at his head tracing the hairstyle.

Confused, Poland asked, 'Uh, what's a _"cheepow"?'_ Something about his pronunciation was off… 'I've never heard of it.' It sounded like a food…

Not missing a beat, Hong Kong answered. 'It's like a Chinese traditional dress or something. I could totally show you the dresses, if you want. So anywa-'

He was cut off by an excited Polish man. He leaned in close, foreheads touching. 'SHOW ME THE DRESS RIGHT NOW.' He demanded, pronouncing each syllable crisp and clear while staring into those coffee eyes again.

Those same coffee eyes widened a bit in surprise. 'Um, yeah. Hold on, I have a picture on my phone…' The Asian patted his pockets, searching for his phone. _Damn…_ He cursed; _it's on my dresser, isn't it…_ Indeed it was. A small, clamshell phone with an oriental pattern on it was lying on an antique wooden dresser beside his bed.

'_AIYA!_ I left it at home.' He face palmed himself for his stupidity. No problem, he had a better idea. 'Can you gimme your number? I'll send the pix to you.' He smiled warmly crossing his fingers. Good thing his outfit had over-sized sleeves…

'Sure, just lemme find a pen…' Poland dug through his pockets, trying to find a simple writing utensil. 'Bee-are- bee.' He called out, and then left the room.

Score! He was so getting this really hot guy's number! One that liked fashion, too! He smiled silently in victory as he sipped his cocoa.

The blonde returned holding a red pen. 'Gimme your hand.' He stated bluntly. Hong Kong blushed, placing his trembling hand in Poland's palm. Uncapping the pen, Poland wrote his number. Poor Hong Kong was blushing even harder now at the tickling sensation on a hand gripping his own and a pen on his skin. A moment later, Poland was re-capping the pen. Hong Kong looked at his hand. Red ink spelled out 'POLAND'S #' followed by a string of numbers.

'There. Text me when you get home. Or you could just call me whenever.' He winked at the last sentence.

Tonight was going to be fun. Like, totally. To the max.


End file.
